Spiralling into darkness. Lodged in Hell. Things keep getting worse and worse and worse and worse. Everybody's on my ass today. I've spent three fucking weeks trying to get the sales tax figures done for '99 (for some reason the State wants this info ... but we ended up owing them a whopping $23.00 ... including $5.00 in penalties and interest!), and in the process, getting ready to pay our authors the royalties, and in the process, getting some fix on the over-all figures for the company so that we can file our "real" taxes, both corporate and personal. So, what happens within MINUTES of my saying "well, the damn tax forms are done"? The Wife is on my ass for a half a dozen other projects which were not as important as my getting the taxes done at the time. It reminds me of being back in the fucking P.R. office. Damn this to Hell! I want to get on a plane and move to fucking Peru, or Tazmania, or Srinigar!
I am deluged in self-loathing, I am exuding hate for all that surrounds me. I want to kill, blast, destroy. What kind of bomb tears away the god-damned fucking mundane world?